


Trust Through Disgust

by Sziondaisy



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Bondage, Comfort and care, Food Play, M/M, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, overloads as rewards, positive reinforcement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 15:15:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5932980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sziondaisy/pseuds/Sziondaisy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Perceptor has run out of ideas to teach Scope that injecting his fuel in front of company isn't as taboo as he thinks. Scope is having none of it and sets about sabotaging Perceptor's plans...until Perceptor comes up with something more enjoyable for the both of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust Through Disgust

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this back in December and forgot to post it here. 
> 
> It was spawned by Ceryskitty with this post - http://ceryskitty.tumblr.com/post/135639124923/im-thinking-about-robots-using-positive
> 
> It was just too good a prompt to pass up.

“Are you comfortable?” 

Scope managed a nod. 

“Good. Do you remember the safe word?” 

/Yes, it’s ‘comet’./

“Good, now remember to use it if everything gets too much for you to handle. I won’t be mad if you need to stop. Ok?”

Scope nodded again and turned his head to follow Perceptor’s movements, his eyes were covered in a soft material, but his sharp hearing placed his lover behind him and a little to the left. Percy had tested several blindfolds from a selection at a local boutique and finally found what he was looking for in a fine, silvery mesh material that was sheer enough to let a haze of light through and dark enough that Scope wouldn’t be able to see more than vague shapes through it. Scope had never managed to get over his fear of the dark and kept a glowing crystal by the bed to chase away the shadows that still haunted him. Perceptor hoped his choice of activity would be enjoyable and sending Scope into a fit of panic was the last thing he wanted. The material seemed like a perfect compromise to both their needs. 

Scope certainly didn’t complain and seemed content enough to wear it, much to Percy’s delight. 

Having his vision blocked wasn’t a problem for Scope. As a rifle, he didn’t need optics at all, he had plenty of other instruments at his disposal to see his target and work out the perfect shot. As a mech, his eyesight was poor, anything over a few feet away dissolved into blurred lines and blocks of colour. It was a cheap, money saving way to build mechs and as long as they didn’t walk into walls it was considered a success. Scope did just fine relying on his other senses to make up for his lack of sight and so the blindfold wasn’t even an annoyance to him. 

Perceptor found it fascinating to watch all the ways Scope followed his movements, no matter where he moved, Scope knew and followed him like a hawk. It was as close to relaxed as Percy ever saw him and he wondered idly if Scope knew how to relax at all.

Scope didn’t flinch when Perceptor took his left ankle in his hand and checked the ankle cuffs weren’t too tight. Next he checked the spreader bar wasn’t forcing Scope’s legs too far apart and stressing his hip joints, it wasn’t but his fingers lingered over the purple ankle regardless, lightly teasing the thin plating. 

/I’m fine, Percy, just get on with it,/ Scope hissed with an irritated kick of his foot. He couldn't get enough movement to dislodge Perceptor's hand, but the cuffs made a satisfying jangle.

“Don’t be so impatient,” Percy chastised, glad Scope couldn’t see the amused smile pulling on his lips as he stood and admired the sight knelt on the floor before him. Cuffed and blindfolded with his modesty plating removed, Scope looked sinfully delicious. His valve was already slick, dripping lubricants down his legs to pool on the floor and Percy could practically see the distaste cross Scope’s emotionless face at the mess he knew he was making. Scope was nothing if not predictable when it came to mess, especially one of his own creation. 

It wasn’t just the sight that revved Perceptor’s engine, it was the trust Scope so willingly placed in him. Without much of a fight - Percy had expected some resistance if only because Scope couldn't agree to something without one - Scope had allowed himself to be tied up and had relinquished his control without a fuss, too easily for Perceptor's liking and for a moment he was worried he'd pushed Scope back into the mindset of a slave. Scope assured Perceptor he hadn't by calling him a glitch and waving off the accusation with a scoff. It was trust that Scope had placed in Percy and the older mech couldn't help but lean down to press an affectionate kiss to Scope's face, Scope growled and pulled away, embarrassed with the attention and unsure how to accept it.

That wasn’t to say Scope wasn’t nervous about being tied up at the whim of another mech. Perceptor saw it in how he stayed alert, his frame tense and rigid, always testing the cuffs for a weak spot and looking for an escape. 

Perceptor knew it wasn’t the restraints that stirred fear in Scope’s fuel tank. The cuffs were cheap and badly made, a sharp twist would easily snap the clasps and render them useless - which was exactly why Percy had brought them instead of investing in a quality pair. No, it was the knowledge of what came at the end of their playtime that that was making Scope so uneasy. 

Scope’s refusal to fuel in company hadn’t been a problem at first, merely a sad thing to witness a mech so fearful of what was natural. It only changed into a problem when Scope missed meals and exhausted himself out of fear, even if it the only company he had was that of other disposables. After a trip to Ratchet for alarmingly low fuel levels, Perceptor made it his mission to fix the problem. 

The scientist had tried a few things already. The first was to buy himself an injector and change his fuelling habits to match Scope’s, going so far as to inject in front of other mechs, both disposable and forged. Scope had taken it like an insult and reacted with vitriol, upset and ashamed that Perceptor was making a joke at his expense. No amount of explaining from his lover could convince Scope that it wasn’t intended as a joke or an insult. They had argued, loudly, Scope had slammed his hands on the table and shouted that Percy had a mouth and should use it. Perceptor had calmly countered that with ‘I could say the same about your injection port’ and regretted it as soon as the threads of betrayal leaked over the bond and Scope disappeared into his room and refused to come out. It was more of a sensitive subject than Percy had realised. 

After a fortnight of fighting (and three ‘lost’ injectors) Perceptor gave up trying to prove his point with actions, Scope was too stubborn and set in his ways to listen to reason and logic. He realised too late that Tripwire had damaged Scope with actions as much as words and Perceptor was following him down the same path. Good intentions or not, Scope took it as bullying and Perceptor realised he was right, in forcibly making Scope uncomfortable he was no better than Tripwire had been. Perceptor apologised and promised not to do it again, Scope warily accepted the apology and they moved on, but the damage was done and Scope withdrew more when it came to fuelling time. 

And that needed to change. 

The next thing Perceptor had tried was a treat and reward scheme involving a wall chart and gold star stickers. Each time Scope fuelled in company, he earned a star to stick on the chart and at the end of the week could pick a treat based on how many he earned. Perceptor offered trips out and new upgrades for enough earned stars and Scope was intrigued for a while. It worked for three days with Scope earning four stars in total, but once the novelty wore off, Scope found a way to abuse the system and stole the a sheet of stickers. Two days later and the apartment was covered in the gold stars. He took any and every opportunity to use them, sticking them on the student’s homework for ‘hard work’, the consoles for ‘showing good programs and not being boring’, the drone vacuum cleaner that spent its day rolling around the house had earned five for ‘being perfect’. Even the sofa had earned stickers for ‘not being too hard or too soft.' 

Percy ignored it and didn’t bother to remove the stickers, it was childish behaviour and he fully expected Scope to bore of the game once he felt he’d made his point or he ran out of stickers - whatever came first. Scope didn’t, he was a stubborn mech and took a twisted pleasure in destroying the idea of star charts if it meant keeping his own unsavoury fuelling to himself. Perceptor had, for a while, hoped the idea was still salvageable, but wrote it off as a complete failure when one night, after a lazy interface, Scope rolled over and slapped a large gold star on his chest window and patted it down with a purr, ‘that was nice, well done.’

Having his lover grade their interfacing killed that scheme but birthed a better idea. 

Which was how Scope came to be tied up at Percy’s mercy. Positive reinforcement.

The little rifle was tense, his cables taught as he strained against his instincts to fight and free himself. His vents raged loudly in the otherwise quiet room and Percy soothed him with quiet coos and promises of safety. It worked to a point, but Scope still followed his movements closely and if a touch was unexpected, he jumped, flinching away and dropping his head submissively. Years of abuse under Tripwire, Catalyst and unknown others had only taught Scope to fear being handled, it was something he was starting to unlearn with Percy’s care, but there were still times when gentle touches only brought fear of what was to come. 

“Relax,” Percy said gently, settling in front of Scope and lightly stroking down his arms and sides, “it’s just me and you know our safeword, we can stop at any time.”

Scope nodded again, not trusting his vocaliser not to crack and give away his emotions.

With his optics blocked, Scope had no choice but to trust Percy and he did...as much as he was able. The hands roaming his frame were light and unthreatening, leaving tingling trails where fingertips brushed lightly over his armour. Percy was careful not to move too fast and no one could say he wasn’t a patient mech. Too patient, Scope could argue.

/I trust you,/ Scope said in a whisper. 

“I know,” Perceptor replied just as quietly, although he was unsure if Scope had been telling him or reaffirming it to himself.

Gentle fingers massaged tight joints and smoothed over flared plating, coupled with words of praise and terms of endearment, Scope slowly unwound and started enjoying himself. In the relatively short time they’d been together, Perceptor had learnt all of Scope’s hotspots and he lingered over them, tweaking the wires and pressing his thumbs into sensitive underplating, earning soft moans and needy engine revs.

Percy had known he’d won before he started, but seeing Scope melt into his hands and push into his touches was a prize he was happy to accept. 

The sight before him was delicious. Scope arched and rolled his hips, seeking to close his legs and hide his dripping valve from view. His cheeks were warm and his fuel-lines ran hot in his neck, a blush of shyness and he ducked his head to hide it. Perceptor revved his engine softly, Scope wasn’t the kind of frametype he usually found physically attractive, but as the rifle arched and threw his head back, Percy was certain that he’d never seen anything look more delicious in his life.

“That’s it, sweetspark, just let go. It’s just us and I’m going to look after you.” 

/I know,/ Scope replied quietly, nuzzling into the hand on his cheek. 

It made Perceptor’s spark swell to hear the love in those two simple words. “Tell me what you want.” 

/I.../ the floor creaked under Scope’s knees as he shifted and hid his heated faceplates. He couldn’t outwardly say he wanted Percy to finger him, that was too obscene an ask. /Please./

“Please what?” 

Scope could hear the amusement in Perceptor’s tone. The hands around his hips tightened slightly and thick thumbs rubbed circles into his inner thighs, teasingly brushing his slick valve lips.

/You’re enjoying this,/ he growled.

“Well yes, that is the point of interfacing after all.” 

/We aren’t interfacing, you’re just teasing. You spend so much time on foreplay that we miss out on doing more fragging./

“Don’t swear, you sound like a miner.”

Scope grunted, /fine, but just so you know, I’m certain that it turns you on and that’s why you don’t like it./

“I don’t like it because it’s crass and there’s no need for it.”

Before Scope could reply, Perceptor pinched his nub and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. Whatever words Scope had been planning on saying were lost in a sharp cry and desperate moan. 

/Primus. Please./

It was so easy to lose himself in the moment that Perceptor almost forgot the reason he’d tied Scope up so tightly. 

His free hand, the one that wasn’t slowly brushing between Scope’s slick valve lips, thumbed over the fuel intake port located in his side, just above his fuel tank. In an instant Scope had forgotten about the pleasure and had tensed again, unable to focus on anything but the thumb to close to his disgusting disposable parts. 

Perceptor paid it no mind, Scope had yet to use their safe word so he continued as if nothing had happened. His left hand stroked and pinched at the opening, treating it like any other part of his frame in the hopes of teaching Scope there was nothing disgusting about it. His right hand moved slowly between Scope’s thighs, spreading valve lubricants over his fingers and finally easing one inside as his thumb flicked over the small nub lit with pink biolights.

Scope was stiff under the touches, too unsure and upset by Perceptor’s left hand to enjoy what the right was doing. The safeword sat on the edge of his vocaliser, so close to slipping free and stopping Perceptor from continuing.

“Relax, Scope,” Percy said softly, leaning forward to press a kiss to Scope’s forehead, “it’s ok. It’s just you and me.” 

Scope’s cabling released slightly, soothed by Perceptor’s voice. It didn’t go unnoticed. 

The blindfold only had one job, to make it impossible for Scope to focus solely on the injector. The last time Perceptor had tried this lesson, Scope hadn’t looked away from the injector and tensed whenever Percy got too close to it, he anticipated its use and feared it. He never relaxed enough to focus on anything else, which left him worked up and restless after he was released. 

Perceptor had theorised that a blindfold would make Scope forget about the injector long enough to enjoy a few overloads and it had worked for the most part. Scope simply found something else to be tense about, this time it was a hand on his fuel intake.

Perceptor wasn’t much for talking, but it helped Scope relax so he swallowed down his discomfort and showered the little rifle with compliments and praise, dragging Scope’s attention from the hand on his fuel port. “You’re doing so well,” he cooed as he added a second finger and scissored them slowly, working them deep enough to brush his ceiling node as he continued thumbing his nub.

Scope tried to focus on his fuel line, but the fingers so deep in his valve were a distraction he couldn’t resist taking. Percy smiled in victory when Scope clenched around his fingers and rolled his hips, grinding down onto his fingers with a sharp cry. /Please!/ He begged, /so close, please!/

Percy didn’t stop, he twisted his fingers against internal sensors and thumbed the rifle’s nub harder. Scope overloaded with a shout and while he was distracted, Percy grabbed the injector and clicked the nozzle into place. Scope didn’t notice and Percy intended to keep it that way, instead of pulling his fingers free of the slick valve, he added another and thrust them slowly, stretching the dripping valve walls and activating all the deep sensors. 

Scope screamed and squeezed his valve around the thick fingers. /Please, Percy. It’s too much, it’s too much./

“Shhhhh,” he eased up, still thrusting his fingers but giving Scope enough recovery time that his sensors had a moment to cool. Scope settled with a needy groan and eventually his hips began moving again as he looked for more friction.

/I want you. I want.../

“Yes, sweetspark?” 

Scope blushed, /I want you to spike me. I like it when you do./

How could he resist a request like that? “Of course, but I’m leaving you tied up.” He didn’t want Scope realising the injector was attached to him and pulling it out, that wouldn’t be a good end to their lesson.

It was a difficult maneuver for a mech as large as Perceptor to make without accidentally injuring Scope in the process, but he managed it and slid himself between Scope’s legs, carefully lifting his own over the spreader bar until his heated interface panel met the wet warmth of his lover’s. Heavy black hands stroked down Scope’s backstruts and settled on his aft, pulling him down. 

Scope twisted against the cuffs, ready to snap them and break free so he could run his hands over his lover, but Perceptor tutted at him and the hands left his aft to grab his wrists. “No, Scope, you know the rules.” 

The amount of irritated sounds and gestures Scope could make was astonishing, from small hisses and growls to a huffs and grinding gears, Perceptor had learnt them all and come to the conclusion that Scope could show more forms of agitation than he could all the rest of his emotions combined. 

Scope’s vocaliser hissed along with his vents as he obeyed the rules, stilling his hands. /Fine. It’s not like I wanted to touch you anyway./

“No? That’s a shame, because I have something you would enjoy.” He couldn’t hold back the sigh of relief that crossed his lips as his panel snapped back and his spike could finally extend. 

Scope felt it brush his valve and Perceptor could practically see the rifle’s mind working, give in and accept he had to stay cuffed or continue to act indignant and nonchalant? For a few seconds, Perceptor was sure Scope was going to follow his stubborn streak and refuse to take what he’d asked for, but that didn’t happen. 

After teaching Scope to fuel without fear, Percy made a note that the next lesson would be to teach Scope not to react so obstinately when he was told not to do something or was issued an order. He could live with it if he had to, but he had to admit it would be a nice thing not to constantly meet a wall of refusal every time something didn’t go Scope’s way.

But that was a plan for another day and Percy threw it on the backburner as Scope moved, sliding his valve along Perceptor’s spike. He wasn’t in the right position to sink the thick spike into his valve so settled on sliding up and down it slowly, rubbing his nub against the ridges and shuddering at the pleasant sensations.

It was pleasant and if they were in bed and not on the living room floor, Percy would have been happy to overload that way, but it didn’t fit the plan he had in mind. He needed Scope distracted before he remembered what they were actually doing. 

“Lift your hips up.” 

Scope was reluctant to obey when he had all the pleasure he wanted, but a swift smack on his aft made him quickly reconsider. 

/You're an aft./

Percy chuckled and took his spike in hand, holding it upright, the tip brushing between Scope’s valve folds. “Slowly now,” he ordered.

Scope lowered himself and moaned happily as the thick tip sank inside him. Savouring the feeling of being filled and stretched, he took the rest of the spike slowly. He’d learnt his lesson about taking it too fast, his first time riding Percy had been so exciting that his eagerness got the better of him and he dropped himself heavily onto Percy’s spike, taking the entire length in a single, painful movement that had him screaming to the rafters. That had only earned an embarrassing trip to Ratchet and a week of discomfort. 

Percy’s fingers had done a good enough job of stretching him, but his spike was thicker and pushed him almost to his limits. Ridge after ridge slipped inside him and Scope counted down how many were left. He counted wrong, when he got to zero there were still two ridges to go. Finally he felt his plating meet Perceptor’s and he could enjoy the burn of being filled. 

“Are you doing ok?”

Scope purred as he nodded and clenched around the spike, /you feel so good./

“Just take it slow, I don’t want a re-” 

/I know, I know, don’t injure myself, I get it,/ he said irritably, /I’m not an idiot./

Scope moved slowly at first, barely lifting his hips enough to drag one of the ridges free from his valve. Once he was comfortable with that, he moved faster, rolling his hips with a shuddery moan as he sank back down. 

Perceptor’s hands gripped his hips, rubbing circles against the plating, an unspoken reminder to take it easy. Scope wasn’t giving that too much attention as he blissed out on the feeling of the thick ridges rubbing against his internal sensors. 

Percy had never had a lover so much smaller and more delicate than he was. It took some getting used to and he was still shocked at how relatively easy it was for Scope to take his entire length without complaint. The warmth and tightness was unlike anything he’d ever felt before and even though a little more care was needed, that was a fair trade for the addictive pleasure riding in his lap.

As his second overload drew closer, Scope’s movements became more erratic and needy until he was practically bouncing in Percy’s lap and moaning his pleasure without shame. His spike bobbed as he moved, untouched but unneeded, the pleasure building up inside him was more than enough to tip him towards the edge. His vents roared, but Percy’s were louder and drowned out his own, he could feel the warm air from them puff up against his chest and face. 

Percy’s hands left Scope’s hips and shakily grabbed for the injector, through his pleasure fogged brain, he remembered what he needed to do. He could see how close Scope was and didn’t want to miss his moment. A few gentle thrusts up to meet Scope's hips and Scope was on the edge of overload. Percy slammed the plunger down and Scope screamed, overloading hard as the high grade flooded his tank, filling him with a burst of quality fuel, adding to the pleasure. Clenching hard, Scope choked on a needy sob as his spike shot ribbons of transfluid over his mate’s chest that dripped down the glass. 

With his task finished, Percy could finally enjoy the moment. Scope was lost in a post overload daze and it didn’t take much for Percy to steady him and thrust up, seeking his own release. He only managed a few deep thrusts, before his own overload claimed him. With a hoarse cry, he thrust deep, sinking his full length into Scope and filling him with streams of silvery fluid.

Scope slumped forward bonelessly and Percy cradled him to his chest with a happy purr. He was content to stay where they were and enjoy the afterglow but Scope had other ideas and squirmed out of the hold. 

/Untie me. I want to shower this mess off before it dries./

Percpetor sighed, “can’t you ever just enjoy the afterglow?”

/No, I feel disgusting and it’s gross and I can feel you just pulled me down and let me lay in my own transfluid./ 

“You flopped forward, I didn’t pull you anywhere.” He sat up and uncuffed Scope, pulled the injector free and then dropped back to the floor. 

/Thank you. I’ll see you in bed? Clean yourself up first though./

Percy nodded and sighed, but it turned to amusement when Scope stood and a mix of transfluid and lubricants poured from his valve. Scope froze and tore the blindfold off, he glared at Perceptor’s smug smile before he dared look down to see the mess of splattered and dripping fluids between his legs. /Not a word,/ he hissed as he reached down to try and stem the flow.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”


End file.
